Okay, so she had limited supplies and a sad lack of fresh vegetables or fruit, but she could get inventive with what she had. Come to think of it, if she came up with something that tasted good enough, she could add a squid dish to her list of options for Friday's wedding. But she was getting ahead of herself. First problem would be to make it edible, let alone create a gourmet recipe.
She'd have a shower first, then tackle the squid. She pushed her tangle of curls off her neck with one hand, keeping hold of the towel with the other. Her hair was still damp and stiff with salt. It must look a complete mess, and without washing it she'd never manage to get a comb through her thick curls.
Nate opened the cupboard to grab a soda. "Want a warm drink?"
"It's a shame the wine isn't cold," mused Suzie, thinking about the range of drinks she'd be serving at Friday's wedding. "What goes well with calamari? Something light and refreshing."
"I might be able to chill some drinks in time for lunch." Nate pulled out a couple of small bottles. "How about an apple cider?"
"Perfect," she agreed. "If I could somehow, magically, have it cold."
He gave a mock bow. "Of course." He went into the cabin and came out a moment later with a pair of socks. He put a bottle in each one, then held them up with the bottles dangling inside.
"What on earth?"
"I'll hang them in the sea and they'll be cold in time for lunch."
"Where did you learn that trick?"
He gave a mock frown, pretending to be shocked by her question. "I can't reveal all my secrets, can I?"
He carried the socks up to the deck and Suzie fished the squid out of the bowl of water that was keeping it cool. When she put it on the chopping board, it lay like a dead sea monster, its large eye glaring at her accusingly. She should cut it up before she showered, in case there was any ink left in it to splatter her.
First, she hitched her towel up and tied it firmly. "Don't look at me like that," she muttered to the squid. "You don't think I can do this, do you? Well, think again."
Grasping its body firmly, she picked up a knife. Why did it have to be so slimy? With gritted teeth, she started cutting. If Nate could produce cold drinks, she'd show him he wasn't the only one who could perform magic. The squid looked nothing like the clean white tube she'd got from the fishmonger, but that wouldn't stop her. She'd make this slippery, ugly sea creature taste delicious if it was the last thing she did. She had something to prove, to herself as much as him.
Yeah, she could do this.
Now, where was that garlic?
12
Nate screwed the dashboard cover back on with satisfaction. After replacing every burnt-out wire and re-checking them twice, he'd finally found a loose connection in the ignition system. The engine would start now, he was sure.
Just in time, it seemed, because an amazing smell was floating out of the galley, an aroma that made his mouth water and his stomach rumble. Wonderful smells had been coming out for at least the last half hour, but this latest one was impossible to ignore.
He went down to the galley. Suzie must have washed her hair, because it hung down her back in wet tendrils. She looked different without her mass of bright red curls around her face. Instead it was slicked back, lying flat, which accentuated her cheekbones and the shape of her face.
He started to tell her how beautiful she was, then saw the dishes on the bench in the galley, and forgot what he was saying. The delicious smells were more than matched by the presentation of the squid. She'd cooked it a few different ways: one plate held battered slices, another had a fragrant sauce, and on a third, the squid had been grilled and tossed with seasonings. How on earth had she done that? Was there a hidden pantry on this boat filled with gourmet ingredients?
"Good timing," she said. "Lunch is ready. Shall we eat in the cockpit?"
"I'll get the cider." He went out to the transom and pulled up the wet socks. The bottles felt nice and cold, and by the time he got back into the cockpit, Suzie had set up the table and was carrying up the dishes. He fetched a couple of glasses, poured the cider and sat down with her.
"Cheers." They clinked their glasses together, and he added, "Let's drink to the most delicious meal I've ever seen."
"You haven't tried it yet."
"If it tastes even half as good as it smells, I vote you do all the cooking from now on."
Only there wouldn't be any more cooking to do. She was desperate to get off the boat, and he'd fixed the engine so she could do just that. They wouldn't get to spend the night together. Instead, she'd be on a plane to LA, and he might never see her again. A damn shame.
But it was for the best. Nobody but her could tempt him to break his rules.
No regrets, remember?
He chose the closest dish, battered squid pieces, and dug his fork into it. Then realized she was watching him with an anxious expression. Surely she couldn't be worried he wouldn't like it? The smell already had him salivating.
Nate put the squid in his mouth and closed his eyes to better savor the delicate flavor. The batter was light and fluffy. Biting into it, he got a tang of chili, followed by a hint of lime. And then the fresh squid, the glorious, tender meat, perfectly cooked inside its delicious parcel.
He couldn't help smiling as he chewed, and when he opened his eyes she was smiling back at him. "Good?"
"Good doesn't start to describe it." He took a helping from the plate with the fragrant sauce. "If you can cook like this, your business must be booming."
She was silent, as though he'd embarrassed her with his compliment. He took the opportunity to sample his next selection. Mmm. Another taste sensation. Did she have any idea how amazing she was? He'd eaten in the world's top restaurants, and none of those meals could top this one. Maybe his assessment was slightly influenced by the gorgeous surroundings and the way he felt about the woman sitting opposite him. But the squid wasn't just incredibly fresh, she'd cooked it as well as a chef who'd been doing it every day of her life. And even better, she'd given it some unexpected twists. Twists that made it taste exceptional.
"Which did you like best?" she asked, when he'd sampled a little off each plate.
"The one with the batter," he said. "Don't get me wrong, they were all delicious. But that one … " He smacked his lips. "If I could eat that dish every day of my life, I'd die happy."
"It'd be nice with a touch of coriander."
He shook his head. "Don't change a thing. It's perfect, exactly as it is." As he looked into her blue eyes, he wasn't entirely sure whether he was talking about the calamari, or about her.
That was a problem.
He had to be careful not to get in too deep. All the heartbreak he went through after Yasmina's death had taught him that much.
"How's the engine going?" she asked.
He cleared his throat, glad for a distraction from his thoughts. "Actually, I'm pretty sure I've fixed it."
"You have?"
"I'll try it after lunch. We should be at the marina in Denarau in time to drink a cocktail and watch the sunset."
She pushed her plate away. "Well, I'm done. Want to try it now?"
"Not while there's any squid left." He cleaned off the plates, enjoying every mouthful, then drained the last of his cider and sighed happily. "My compliments to the chef. That was the most delicious squid I've ever eaten."
She blushed. He'd thought she was beautiful when she was angry, but complimenting her had the same effect. Could it just be her glowing cheeks that made her eyes so blue, or did their color deepen when she was pleased? An interesting scientific question, and one he wanted to study further. With wet hair, the effect was even more striking.
"How long have you been a red head?" he asked.
"A couple of years. Before that, it was jet black."
"It used to be brown," he mused, remembering her in her school uniform. It had been short back then, but he'd still wanted to run his hands through it.
She laughed. "Mousy, you mean? That was a long time ago."
She'd be beautiful no matter what color her hair was, although he had to admit the bright, fire-engine red suited her. The brightness of her hair reflected her personality.
Suzie got up to clear the plates. He took one lot down, then went for the last of them. When he carried them into the saloon, she was at the sink starting to wash up. It wasn't until he put the plates on the kitchen bench that he realized she wasn't using the foot pump to run the water, and he could hear a low mechanical hum.
"The water pump's on?"
She turned, and her wet hand flew to her mouth. "Oh, I forgot. I turned it on for just a few minutes to wash my hair. But I forgot to turn it off again afterward."
Shit. The water pump would drain the battery quicker than anything. Nate crossed to the switchboard and was about to flick the switch off, when the sound stopped abruptly. Either the water had come up to full pressure, or the battery had just gone dead.